The Recreations of a Country Parson. Second SeriesTicknor and Fields, 1861 - 442 Seiten |
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Seite 13
... in these little things . And now when you enter your library again , where your solitary meal is spread , you sit down in the mellow lamplight , and feel quite happy . How different it would have been to COUNTRY PARSON'S LIFE . 13.
... in these little things . And now when you enter your library again , where your solitary meal is spread , you sit down in the mellow lamplight , and feel quite happy . How different it would have been to COUNTRY PARSON'S LIFE . 13.
Seite 14
... feel you are of some service in your generation you have intellectual labours and tastes which keep your mind from growing rusty , and which admit you into a wide field of pure enjoyment : you have pleasant country cares to divert your ...
... feel you are of some service in your generation you have intellectual labours and tastes which keep your mind from growing rusty , and which admit you into a wide field of pure enjoyment : you have pleasant country cares to divert your ...
Seite 17
... feel , will be only a subdued reflection of what you yourself have felt . And sermon - writing is a task that is divided into many stages . You begin afresh every week : you come to an end every week . are writing a book , the end ...
... feel , will be only a subdued reflection of what you yourself have felt . And sermon - writing is a task that is divided into many stages . You begin afresh every week : you come to an end every week . are writing a book , the end ...
Seite 19
... feel the touch of the weak fingers still ; the parting request is not forgotten . You mark the spring blossoms come back ; and you walk among the harvest sheaves in the autumn evening . And when you ride up the parish on your duty , you ...
... feel the touch of the weak fingers still ; the parting request is not forgotten . You mark the spring blossoms come back ; and you walk among the harvest sheaves in the autumn evening . And when you ride up the parish on your duty , you ...
Seite 21
... feel the stir of even its quiet existence : you drop into the bookseller's : you grumble at the venerable age of the Reviews that come to you from the club . Generally , you cannot be bothered with calls upon your tattling acquaintances ...
... feel the stir of even its quiet existence : you drop into the bookseller's : you grumble at the venerable age of the Reviews that come to you from the club . Generally , you cannot be bothered with calls upon your tattling acquaintances ...
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Beliebte Passagen
Seite 174 - Now stir the fire, and close the shutters fast, Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round, And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn Throws up a steamy column, and the cups, That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each, So let us welcome peaceful evening in.
Seite 110 - tis a dull and endless strife: Come, hear the woodland linnet, How sweet his music ! on my life, There's more of wisdom in it. And hark ! how blithe the throstle sings ! He, too, is no mean preacher: Come forth into the light of things, Let Nature be your Teacher.
Seite 128 - There, at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, Muttering his wayward fancies, he would rove ; Now drooping, woful, wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed with care, or crossed in hopeless love.
Seite 226 - OH for a lodge in some vast wilderness, Some boundless contiguity of shade, Where rumor of oppression and deceit, Of unsuccessful or successful war, Might never reach me more...
Seite 412 - Twill murmur on a thousand years, And flow as now it flows. "And here, on this delightful day, I cannot choose but think How oft, a vigorous man, I lay Beside this fountain's brink. "My eyes are dim with childish tears, My heart is idly stirred, For the same sound is in my ears Which in those days I heard.
Seite 187 - THE harp that once through Tara's halls The soul of music shed, Now hangs as mute on Tara's walls As if that soul were fled. So sleeps the pride of former days, So glory's thrill is o'er, And hearts that once beat high for praise Now feel that pulse no more.
Seite 295 - Nor less I deem that there are Powers Which of themselves our minds impress; That we can feed this mind of ours In a wise passiveness.
Seite 329 - O that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest — Ps.
Seite 122 - And labours hard to store it well With the sweet food she makes. In works of labour or of skill I would be busy too: For Satan finds some mischief still For idle hands to do. In books, or work, or healthful play Let my first years be past, That I may give for every day Some good account at last.
Seite 305 - From the lone shieling of the misty island Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas — Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland, And we in dreams behold the Hebrides : Fair these broad meads, &c.